By Any Other Name
by Scarlet Simm
Summary: How can you be anything but vain, when all your life, the only thing that was valued about you was your face? This is the story of Rosalie Hale.
1. Chapter 1

**1927**

_How can you be anything but vain, when all your life, the only thing that was valued about you was your face?_

My earliest memories are of being complimented.

"Oh isn't she a darling!"

"She looks like an angel."

"She is such a pretty child, Mrs Hale."

When people looked at me approvingly, my mother would smile. I learned that by receiving compliments, I would make her happy and my father proud.

Sometimes old friends would visit my parents and tell them how much I had grown. In a panic, I would run to my mother's room, and check in the looking glass on her dressing table. But I was still me, blonde hair in childish ringlets, blue eyes wide in distress. I supposed that I had grown, changed for the better. Every year I grew, I improved. I went from adorable baby to darling toddler to angelic child. My brothers eventually followed me as strong, brave boys, but I was the apple of my father's eye, my mother's darling.

My mother would brush my hair with long languid strokes each night before I went to bed. Sometimes she would tell me stories, sometimes she would tell me about her day and other times she would be silent, lost in her thoughts. I always admired my mother, she was elegant and as fashionable as she could afford. However it was my father I adored. He was strong, strict with my brothers, always right and best of all, he adored me.

- - -

Am I dead yet? It hurts. It hurts so much. Don't let go of these memories. Hold on. Focus on who you were.

- - -

_Walking home alone. It was such a short distance. Chilly air crawled under my jacket. A strand of hair had slipped out of its pins, tickling my cheek._

- - -

I was twelve when I met Vera. Our fathers worked together at the bank. In retrospect, it was still a prosperous time. After the Great War, women were cutting their hair and wearing short dresses that often showed their knees. My mother would tut at those girls, while I dreamed of the day to be allowed to cut my hair in a bob and wear those flapper dresses.

Mr. Miller had invited my father to tea, hoping to impress him. My mother pulled me aside in the afternoon to tell me that my brothers were too young to go, but I had been so well behaved that I could attend the tea. So I ran into the nursery to tell Georgie and John my good news and their bad. They, of course, started to cry, screaming and throwing their toys. I rolled my eyes and left them with their nanny.

I put on my best dress and my mother brushed my hair. She tied a ribbon in it to match the dress and my father told me how pretty I looked. I smiled at him as prettily as I could, while out of the corner of my eye I looked in the mirror at myself, just to make sure I was as pretty as he said.

We walked to the Miller's place and I held my mother's hand. Two men, in dusty labourer overalls, came towards us on the footpath. They stood aside to let us pass. One nudged the other while winking at me. I smiled at them, but also felt hot in the cheeks, a flush rising above my collar.

"My blushing Rose is going to break a lot of hearts," my mother remarked to my father.

"As long as she keeps the right one safe," he responded. I know now that his idea of 'the right heart' and mine were very different.

--

Don't forget. It's who you are. It's who you were. The pain, like needles in my veins, like fire on my skin, like acid in my blood. I scream.

- - -

_The streets lights had been lit. Small islands of warm yellow glow were separated by oceans of dark pavement. Darker alleys shooting off the main street were ominous portals to dark places. I thought of light fabrics, pretty flowers and how jealous all my friends would be._

- -

Vera had a sweet face. She wasn't striking. She wasn't beautiful. She was just sweet. Her disposition matched her face. I remember taking pleasure upon seeing her, her hair was brown and mine was golden. Her eyes were brown and mine had been described as cornflower blue. I had a momentary flush of guilt thinking of her so dismissively and then I remembered that I made my father proud by being pretty. I wondered how Vera made her father proud.

Vera had a brother, a little older than mine, but still younger than us. We visited him in his room, while our parents were talking. He was playing with some wooden blocks and a wind-up motor car. I looked at the little car, fascinated how it moved. The shiny red tin roof beckoned to me. I picked it up, ignoring Willie Miller's dismay at the interruption of his game. I traced my finger along its roof, outlining the doors. I flipped it upside down, wondering what made it go, when chubby fingers snatched it from my grasp.

"Hey!"

"It's mine!" Willie shouted at me, red in the face.

"Willie, that's not nice. Rosalie is a guest here. She can look at the car." Vera tried to discipline her brother, but Willie pushed past her and out of the room, clutching his precious toy to his chest.

"I'm sorry about him." Vera turned to me, desperate to redeem herself as a worthy friend despite her brother's atrocious behaviour.

"Don't worry about it. Little brothers are a bore. Does he have any other cars I can look at?"

Vera shook her head apologetically. "Only the one. That's why he's so precious about it. But I can show you my dolls?" She turned the statement into a question, which I agreed to. Dolls, although more lady-like, didn't have the same appeal to me as a motor car.

- - -

Don't forget. Don't let them fade. You were Rosalie Hale. You turned heads in every room. You caught every eye. Be proud of who you were. It hurts…

- - -

_Raucous laughter, my heart beat faster, my arms clutched tighter around my waist._

"_Rose!"_

_It was Royce, my groom, my love, my man. I walked to him eagerly, foolishly, in the dark alley, he would protect me._

- - -

**1929  
**

It was Georgie's birthday and I was still thirteen. My father came home and gave me a gift, a new dress. Georgie was upset, but easily placated with his gift, a small battalion of toy soldiers. John, my youngest brother, was upset that he had nothing. But we ignored him when he went to sulk in the nursery.

"So Georgie," my father had him on his knee, "I know today is special for you because it's your birthday." At this point my brother cheered. "But it's also a special for the nation."

"Why is that?"

I rolled my eyes. I was grown up now, I read the paper, and I couldn't believe my little brother could be so ignorant. "Because we have a new president, George. Don't you know anything?"

Father looked at me, attempting to placate me with his stare. I folded my arms and looked away.

"His name is Herbert Hoover, son, and he's the thirty-first President of this country." George thought about it for a moment and then asked who had been the one before. I sighed again, but my father answered him before I could say anything.

"Calvin Coolidge"

The following Sunday we went to church. I wore my new dress, I was so pleased with it. The skirt spun out as I twirled. I only did it once in my room, as now I was too old to be acting so childish in public. We sat in church, and instead of praying for my soul, I was trying to see how many boys were looking at me out of the corner of their eyes. I faltered, feeling guilty, then started to praying to God to forgive me. But surely he couldn't have made me so attractive without a reason for doing it?

- - -

Hold on to the past. You nearly had everything you wanted. Hold on.

Burning. Burning. Burning. I scream. Again and again.

"I'm so sorry. It's the only way I could save you…"

- - -

_The buttons fell to the ground haphazardly, like snow. Now freed from my jacket, a gift, they winked at me from the ground. I shivered._

"_Let's have a look at you then."_

_They wouldn't…_

_Pain. They ripped my hat from my head. The pins tugged at my hair, relenting their grasp and abandoning me._

_They couldn't…_

_I looked my saviour in the eye._

- - -

"Did you hear, Rose?"

"Hear about what?" Vera was obviously excited about something.

"About the television, in color!"

"What?"

"In New York, at the Bell Telephone Labs last week, they transmitted pictures in colour!"

"That's amazing." At first I was stunned, technology was moving so quickly, then I felt envious. "We don't even have a television, father says we can't afford one and mother says that the waves are bad for you. I'm sure that the waves in the air transmitting the pictures are not lethal in any way. My parents are so old!"

Vera sat quietly for a moment. I realised that if we couldn't afford a television, they definitely couldn't. She then perked up, "they transmitted the picture all the way to Washington. The pictures were of a bouquet of roses and the flag."

Vera offered me more tea, which I declined. I stared out of the window, losing myself for a moment.

"Oh, don't forget it's my birthday in two weeks."

"Rose, how could I forget? It's the eleventh of April, just like last year." She giggled at her own joke.

"Well, I'm having a little party in the afternoon, so I hope you'll come."

"Of course, I'd love to come. Thank you for inviting me."

The sun was starting to set and I needed to get home. I made my goodbyes, put on my coat and left the house. I walked home thinking about the things I wanted; a modern kitchen, servants to wash and cook and clean for me, a television. A bump on my shoulder pulled me out of my reverie. I realised I'd walked into a boy on the footpath going in the other direction.

"Sorry," I apologised, though I didn't really mean it. I just batted my lashes and smiled coyly.

"Anytime you want, little Darlin'" He tipped his hat, and continued on his way. I swear, sometimes I thought I'd be able to get away with murder just with a smile and flick of my hair.

- - -

Don't glorify. Don't condemn. Just remember.

"I'm so sorry Rosalie. I don't know if you remember me…"

I give up screaming.

- - -

_Royce. My saviour. He wouldn't let them touch me. He loved me._

_He looked at me, and then smiled lazily. "Come on Rose, don't be shy."_

_Why was he doing this?_

"_Don't." I warned._

_He laughed._

"_Don't." I commanded. He just smirked at me. Fear drenched me in a sudden icy shower._

"_Please." I demanded._

_They all laughed._

"_Please." I begged. I felt a hand run down the back of my neck and onto my shoulder._

- - -

Father was late home. Again. This was the third time this week. It was the middle of Fall, end of October. Dinner was keeping warm in the oven, my stomach was grumbling and so was I.

"Why can't we eat? Mother, I'm hungry!"

"We will eat together, like a family. Rosalie, be patient." I humphed, and petulantly folded my arms. Georgie and John were under the dining room table playing with their soldiers.

We waited for another fifteen minutes and then my mother telephoned the bank. She did a lot of nodding and then finally announced, "he left twenty minutes ago, so he should be here any minute. Rose, come and help me in the kitchen."

I helped getting dinner out of the oven and on the table. While I was setting the cutlery Father walked in the door. He took off his hat and coat and sat down at the table. Georgie and John, realising Father was home, sat down quietly in their chairs.

We started eating straightaway. We were too hungry and father looked too tired to talk. Finally my mother put down her napkin, after touching it delicately on each side of her mouth, and asked my father why he was late.

"The past couple of days have been hectic. Apparently some trouble at the Stock Exchange. It's got a lot of the bosses worried." At this my mother looked stricken. "Don't worry darling, everything will be fine."

There was a pause. The clanking of cutlery on the crockery was very loud. Georgie and John were trying not to laugh, risking our father's displeasure, playing some silly game with their feet. I decided to break the silence, "Did you hear that in New York City, they are opening a Museum of Modern Art. It opens November Seven. Do you think we could go?"

"Not at the moment. We'll see next year."

"But-"

"Not now. Things are too hectic at the bank, just wait till next year."

- - -

Focus on your memories. Ignore the pain.

"Your human life is over…"

This was your life, your human life. The pain, grief, loss, anger, rage, desolation, abandonment, they were part of your life.

"You're changing…"

- - -

_I pulled away out of reach. A snigger. Taking a step away from one, I walked into another. Another leer, a rough hand stroked my arm. I backed away._

"_Royce, I want to go home."_

"_Ah Rose. I've been so good, waiting for you. But now I'm fed up with waiting."_

"_What?" I didn't understand. Foolish, naïve girl. I thought I knew everything at eighteen. Pure child waiting till her wedding night._

"_Now Rose."_

_Royce's hands lashed out, one hand grabbing my waist, the other between my legs. His fingers curled tightly on me, painfully so. I had never been touched there before. It was confronting. No, it was terrifying._

- - -

**1930  
**

I wished my father made more money. I wished we could afford to keep more than a nanny. I had always thought we lived a good life, but the older I became the more I noticed we lacked. My mother cooked for all of us in our ancient kitchen. I spent a lot of my day helping her, or scrubbing the pots she used. Father promised us that as soon as John and Georgie were old enough, we would get rid of the nanny and hire a maid. But John was already nine, he was just being a baby about Abigail, and refused to let her go. Physically.

While I was dusting in the parlour, my hair kept neat under a scarf, father came in and sat down. "Ah Rose, I walked home today and saw more shiftless people on the street. If they just got off their lazy behinds and found a job it would be alright. I mean, the president has gone to Congress only last week and asked for money for create jobs."

"Father, I can tell you one person who has a job that isn't required, it's Abigail. She should be dusting and scrubbing. Not following little baby John around." I huffed as I lifted the umpteenth little porcelain model and dusted around it.

"You're so stubborn, Rose."

"I prefer to call it tenacious."

"But you're right. First thing tomorrow, I'm going to speak to John and then Abigail."

"Really?" Father was finally listening to me. I knew that if I just persisted, he'd see reason. "Thank you Father," I cried out as I ran and jumped onto his lap, my arms locked around his neck. "You really are the best father in the whole world."

"I just want to make my Rose happy."

- - -

What am I now?

"You'll be different…"

A shell of memories? A collection of unfulfilled wishes and yearnings?

"Your human needs will be gone. I'm so sorry…"

- - -

_I tried to run, I guess it was instinct._

_It's just not fair when the predators outnumber the prey._

_It's not fair when they are stronger._

_It's not fair._

_Hands everywhere, touching, grabbing, pulling, tugging._

"_Stop it," I threatened. I slapped at a hand, I tugged my dress out of their grasp._

"_Stop it!" I screamed. Then I gave up on coherent words. I just screamed._

- - -


	2. Chapter 2

**1931**

My first party. I was so excited. It wasn't the most exclusive party in Rochester, but then I didn't come from a particularly exclusive family. Yet. My aim was to find the richest and most important girls at this party and to become their best friend. If that failed, I intended to find the richest and most important men at this party and flirt with them outrageously. Either way, I intended to have a lot more parties to go to in the future.

"Abigail! Come and help me with my hair." That girl was wandering around the house pretending to dust, I was determined to make good use of her. "Abigail!"

My mother walked into the room, wearing a fine dress and her best jewellery. She looked elegant. I saw the similarities between us, the golden hair, although hers was peppered with fine grey strands, and we shared striking features. My eyes and my temperament came from my father.

"Rose, don't panic. We have an hour till we're due to leave. Let Abigail finish her work."

"But I need her. Now. Or my whole night will be ruined." I was whining. I know I sounded like a silly little girl, whinging at her mother.

"Rose, a single hair out of place won't ruin your evening."

"But my hair is so long, all the other girls have their hair short and a permanent wave in them, it takes them no time at all to fix." My mother had said now I was sixteen I could do what I wanted with my hair. Had it been four years ago, I would have cut it in a second. But now, I loved the colour of it, and the way it waved, framing my face. I ummed and ahhed about my hair regularly, but in the end I was too attached to it, pardon the pun, to cut it.

"Well do it yourself or wait for Abigail." She hesitated, then added, "behave yourself Rosalie Hale or you won't be going at all."

She hesitated because she knew damn well that I was going to make a big impression on a lot of people tonight. She knew that my face and figure could open a lot of doors. But at the time I thought she hesitated because she really wanted me to go to the party and have fun. I thought she loved me too much to deny me.

Eventually I conceded defeat and set my hair myself, grumbling under my breath the entire time. We were due to leave any minute. I left my dressing table and danced my way to the wardrobe, humming the latest Ruth Etting tune. _Ten cents a dance, that's what they pay me. Gosh how they weigh me down._ I opened the doors to my wardrobe wide and in pride of place was my new dress, a glorious red silk that would cling to my waist. The elegant neckline didn't fall deep enough in my opinion but my mother was already shocked at the brazen depths to which it already plunged and so refused to lower it anymore. It was only about four inches from my collar bones but she was scandalised. I slipped the dress on and pulled on my new shoes. I'd never worn such high heels before. I stood in front of my mirror and smiled seductively at myself. _Ten cents a dance, pansies and rough guys, tough guys who tear my gown. _People will definitely want to tear at my gown to get at me tonight. I blew myself a kiss and strode from the room.

- - -

I was shocking, brazen, bold and beautiful. I captivated so many. Do I regret that now? My beauty almost got me the life I wanted, yet ended it at the same time.

"You'll be strong, Rosalie. You'll never be vulnerable again…"

- - -

_My scream didn't last very long. A hand smacked me in the jaw. It hit me so hard I fell to the ground, my hand clutched to my head. I whimpered as the people around me spun. My eyes focused as the hand that had hit me pulled away. Royce._

- - -

I had too many party invitations. It was breaking my heart. I could have gone to all the parties, but the problem was that all my friends would be there wearing a different beautiful new dress every time and my wardrobe was so limited. My parents refused to buy me anything new for the next three months, saying that I would have to make do. It was so unfair.

Carol had invited me to go to the pictures this afternoon with her and the girls. Annie, Jean and Peggy were all going and I had nothing to wear. The film had been on for a couple of months and Carol said it was terrifying.

"Come on Rose. Please come. I spent most of the time hiding in Bobby's shoulder last time. It'll be fun."

"If it's so terrifying, why are we going without boys to hide behind?"

"That's why I rang you. Bobby is coming along again and he's bringing a couple of friends. Isn't that exciting?"

This changed things. Although I wasn't enraptured about seeing _Dracula_, I was seriously tempted by the prospect of seeing some new talent.

"Please come?"

I did a mental check of my wardrobe. Mother had a new blouse I could borrow and the last time I wore my caramel skirt it was hidden under my long coat. This would have to do.

"Sure I'll come."

Vera and I stood at the train station, waiting for Carol to meet us. Annie and Carol walked towards, late as usual. Apparently Peggy was waiting at the theatre, buying our tickets. While we strolled arm in arm, Carol described her Bobby to us in detail, from his majestic brow right down to his manly, sensible shoes. They had been going together for three weeks and Carol was smitten. I wasn't impressed by him. His hair was too oily, his smile too weak and insincere and he was too thin.

"What are his friends like?" I interrupted Carol, getting to the point.

"Why I don't know. I haven't met them before."

I pouted. I didn't know what to expect. Either I was in for a chess club convention or, by some miracle, all of Bobby's friends were infinitely more attractive. I sincerely hoped for the latter.

I got neither. The boys weren't unattractive, just ordinary. Nothing for me. My standards were too high. Vera's hand on my arm suddenly tightened for a moment while Carol was introducing us.

"Annie, Rosalie and Vera. This is Roger, Joe and Henry."

Vera smiled shyly at Henry. Henry tipped his cap at her and smiled shyly back. I pushed Vera forward and Henry offered his arm to her as they walked into the cinema. This would be fun.

- - -

I'm so cold, yet I'm on fire. It hurts. Just kill me. Let me die. Please.

"You'll no longer need food to survive. I was changed so long ago…"

I was changing and it terrified me. What am I now?

"Vampire…"

- - -

_My father said you were a good man._

_My father promised me that you would be perfect for me._

_My father would never let me get hurt._

_My father was never wrong._

**1932**

Vera was in love. Vera was engaged. Vera was getting married in one week. I was so torn. I was seething in jealousy that she was getting married before me, overjoyed that she had chosen me to be her maid of honour, slightly smug that I would look prettier than her on her wedding day and feeling terribly guilty that I was jealous of her and thinking of her so dismissively. I was an emotional mess.

It was April and I had just turned seventeen. My parents were throwing me a party tonight and had invited all the people worth knowing in this city. Even the Kings, the most exclusive family in Rochester were coming. The house was gleaming, Abigail, mother and I had spent the last week scrubbing it from top to bottom. Every morning I would roll out of bed, groan, grumble and complain, pick up my dusting rag or mop and get to work. The last two days we had been preparing food in the kitchen. I sincerely hoped that there would be plenty of rich men coming tonight. There was no way in this world that I would ever clean so much ever again.

I had a new dress, a gift from my parents. A daring emerald green, it had a fairly modest front, but the back dipped into a v all the way to my waist. The long skirt flowed down elegantly to my ankles. My hair was curled into elegant rolls on my head. Vera fluttered around me. She was in a pretty pink dress with a frilly collar. I'd seen her wear it to several parties before, but it suited her.

"Rose, you look beautiful."

I smiled coyly. I knew I looked good, but it was still nice hearing it. I quickly checked my reflection again, not a hair out of place.

"This party is going to be amazing." Vera gushed again. The guests had been amassing downstairs but I wasn't quite ready to make my entrance yet. Vera had brought up two glasses of champagne and we were drinking and primping in my room.

"Vera, do you realise that you will be married by this time next week?"

She smiled brightly and shook with anticipation.

"Oh Rose, I love him so much. Henry is so kind and gentle. And he loves me."

"But he's a carpenter!" I bemoaned. She'd heard this before from me, she knew I meant the man no harm.

"You know it doesn't matter to me. We could live in a small house, a hut or, heaven forbid, a caravan. It wouldn't matter. We love each other and it will be like magic."

"Better you than me."

"Rose, I know you will marry well. You'll have lots of money and pretty babies, but I do hope that you'll also marry for love. I can't imagine being with someone I don't love."

"But Vera, I do love money so very much."

"You're incorrigible." We giggled into each other, smiling carefree smiles.

A knock on the door disturbed us. My mother looked in. "I think it's time Rosalie."

The chatter in the room was a loud buzz. The smoke from the men's cigars floated to the ceiling and the clinking of champagne flutes twinkled in the ambience. Vera and my mother followed me as I slowly descended the stairs, my left hand trailing delicately down the banister. I smiled coyly while everyone in the room unashamedly ogled me. A round of applause burst out as well as a couple of 'Happy Birthdays'.

My father took my arm and guided me around the room, introducing me to those I hadn't met yet. The first person we met was Royce King, my father's boss.

"Ah Mr King, allow me to introduce my daughter, Rosalie."

"Miss Hale, what a pleasure it is to meet you at last."

"Thank you for coming, Sir." I smiled as I shook his hand.

"Your boy not here tonight?" My father enquired.

"Not this evening. He was called away to Georgia."

"That's a shame." My father looked at me for a moment as he said this. I just ignored him and surveyed my guests, looking at the calibre of the men.

While I was flirting shamelessly with two boys I had met at church, my mother pushed her way in and pulled me away.

"Mother, what are you doing?"

"Introducing you."

"To whom?"

She said nothing as she dragged me across the floor into the parlour. The crowd was a little thinner here. A few men sat in the chairs and discussed the state of the world. Three people were clustered around the fireplace. And they were beautiful. Two men and a woman. The one nearest to me had golden hair, like mine, but his eyes were a warm topaz.

"Rosalie, this is Doctor Carlisle Cullen, he only recently moved to Rochester." I nearly lost myself for a moment in his hypnotising gaze, but then recovered.

"A pleasure to meet you, Doctor. Thank you so much for coming this evening." I gave him a small smile that I knew made me look coy and endearing. I used it on my father all the time.

"I thank you for the invitation. Let me introduce my wife, Esme." He gestured to the woman beside him. She was angelic. Warm caramel waves were piled on her head, like mine, but she seemed to wear it better. She had a warm, motherly feel to her, yet she was young, spritely and achingly lovely to look at. I was jealous.

"Mrs Cullen, you do look lovely this evening." I wasn't lying, but I didn't particularly enjoy saying it. I was being irrational, but it was _my_ party. The boy next to her smirked at me. I responded with a smirk of my own automatically

"Thank you Miss Hale. You are radiant yourself. This is my brother, Edward." She gestured to the youthful man next to her. Edward, too, was beautiful. He had warm auburn hair and sharp, defined features. But something about him irked me. It was like he could see right through me, or maybe it was because I had been standing in front of him for over five minutes and he hadn't once really looked at me. It was like I was invisible or ordinary. That really bugged me. I wasn't used to being ignored. A man walked past with champagne.

"Edward, can I offer you a drink?" I said as seductively as I could. The waiter's eyes bugged out but Edward just looked past me.

"No thank you. I'm not thirsty."

That was the first time I met the Cullens. The Doctor and his wife were lovely and Edward was just plain frustrating. But they irked me. They were all prettier than I was. The men had an unearthly elegance about them and Esme was just captivating. I sincerely hoped our paths wouldn't cross again.

- - -

I was going to get married.

I was going to have an attractive husband.

I was going to have pretty babies.

I was going to have a big house.

I was going to grow old, gracefully, and watch my pretty family grow up.

I was going to live my human life.

"You'll never die, but you'll never age, change…I'm so sorry."

Now a monster

- - -

"_Royce, please," I begged. He lumbered towards me, his face an inch from mine._

"_Beg, Rose. Go on, beg." The stench of alcohol, cheap beer, wafted over me and I gagged on it. I was weak at the knees, my chest tightened as it became harder and harder to breathe. My jacket lay on the dirty ground. I staggered to my feet and tried to push through the men. They weren't men, they were monsters._

- - -

It was the end of August. I was visiting Vera at her new house. She had been married over four months now and was divinely, blissfully happy every time I saw her. As I walked from my house to hers, my feet carrying me down the familiar streets, I mused on my state. I would be eighteen next year and I wanted to get married. I promised myself that once I had my next birthday I would focus on finding the man who could be my equal in looks and ambition. Right now I was happy floating around, breaking hearts.

The doorbell rang for barely two seconds when the door flew open. Vera must have seen me coming and waited for me.

"Come in, come in." She ushered me inside and practically threw me into a chair.

"Vera, whatever's the matter? You're all…" I was searching for the right word, "jumpy." It didn't quite suit but she looked like she was busting to tell me something.

"I went to see the doctor this morning."

"Are you alright? Ill?"

"Well, I was. That's why I went to see Doctor Cullen."

Cullen. I'd managed to avoid seeing them since I met them at my birthday party, but they stuck in my mind. The only people in Rochester more attractive than me. I was a competitive person, so I didn't forget things like that.

"And what did the good doctor say?" A mocking tone had entered my voice, it was unattractive, but Vera was too caught up to notice.

"I'm expecting."

"What!" Vera was going to have a baby. That was wonderful.

"So soon?"

"Yes. I'm so shocked, thrilled, elated…I keep coming up with new words, but they all mean happy."

"I'm so happy for you." I stood and embraced my friend. I truly was happy for her. A little jealous, but I knew I wouldn't have to wait long until my turn came. I rested my head on her shoulder, my blonde hair draping over her brown strands.

"How far are you?"

"Nearly four months."

"But you've only been married four months!"

Vera didn't reply. She just blushed the deepest red I had ever seen. I felt her smile.

"You have to help me." Vera begged, her voice muffled against my blouse. I pulled back to look at her.

"What do you need help with?"

"Working out how to tell Henry the good news."

While I walked home in the midday sun, everything suddenly darkened. I assumed a cloud had come over the sun. I was lost in my musings until I realised it was getting darker and darker. As I approached my front door, I looked up. The sun was nearly gone. It was an eclipse.

My mother opened the front door, an apron over her housecoat. She squinted as she looked at the sky.

"A couple of centuries ago, people would have assumed this was some omen or a sign from God." She mused. It was a sign for me. A portent for change. Vera was a wife now, she was having a baby. Now it was my time.

"Rose, I forgot to give your father his lunch. Will you take it to him at the bank?" It wasn't like her to forget these things. I thought it odd, but agreed nonetheless.

"Oh and run upstairs and put on your nice white dress."

"But I'm just delivering a lunch. I think I look fine."

"Don't argue with me Rosalie. And roll your hair up." She dragged me inside and pushed me up the stairs. Once in my room I watched as slowly the dark streets lightened up again and the world restarted. While I rolled up my hair and put on my gown, I considered the eclipse. It was my turn. Things were going to change.

- - -

I was changing. It hurt. Fire curled my skin, my bones felt like ashes.

"I'm sorry."

Don't forget. Don't lose what you had. Don't change, Rosalie.

"I'm so sorry, Rosalie."

Kill me, Doctor Cullen. Let me die.

Another voice, "What were you thinking, Carlisle?" That voice was lovely but its tone dismissed immediately. Like I was nothing, worth nothing. Despite the pain, the agony, irritation flooded through me.

"I couldn't just let her die."

Please, please, let me die. It hurts.

- - -

_Monsters. They grabbed me, tore at my clothes. I screamed. Why wasn't anyone coming? "Stop it! Let me go."_

_They held my arms and I kicked. "You didn't say please," a voice growled in my ear._

"_Please. Please. Please!" They laughed at me. I struggled and shook, my arms hurt so much. Thick fingers dug into them, rough hands spread my legs. "Stop stop stop-" Fabric was shoved into my mouth while tears streamed down my cheeks. No, this wasn't happening. This wasn't happening. Someone would come. Surely someone would come and save me?_

- - -


	3. Chapter 3

**Do you like it? Is it in character? Let me know...**

**1933**

It was nearly the end of January and Vera looked like a beach ball. She was due any day. I had spent the morning with her, my hands held on her belly most of the time. Every time the baby moved I got a little thrill. There was a person inside. A lovely little person and I couldn't wait to meet him or her. Vera was convinced it was a girl. I told her it was a boy. Henry didn't care as long as both mother and child were well. But I knew that secretly every man wanted a son. Time would prove me right.

Every time I reached out to feel the baby with my left hand my ring would shine. Ah Royce. He was rich, he was handsome, he loved having me with him and he gave me the most beautiful engagement ring.

I remember the first time I saw him. Mother had forced me to deliver lunch to my father at the bank. As I walked down the street a man whistled at me. I gave him a beautiful smile. I would've have flicked my hair too but it was rolled up. I strolled into the bank feeling admired and beautiful. Walking past all the men in their suits, I smiled and hummed to myself. Dutifully, I delivered the lunch, gave my father a kiss on the head and then turned to leave.

There he was, although at the time I didn't know him. Royce King Junior had watched me the entire time I'd been there and he was leaning on a marble pillar admiring me. I gave him a smile and turned back to my father, "Enjoy your lunch Father." If Royce wanted to find me, he now knew how. Through my father.

And find me he did. That was the first night I received the roses.

"Rosalie, did you hear me?"

"Sorry Vera, I was miles away." I apologised.

"Thinking about your special someone?" Vera smiled, but it didn't reach her brown eyes.

"About the wedding actually, there's so much to plan. But there's my birthday first." Vera was silent for a moment.

"Rosalie, does Royce make you happy?"

"Of course! I'm marrying him, Vera."

"I know you're happy about the wedding and starting a family, but I just want to make sure he's right for you." I knew what this was. I had objected to Henry before she married him. Only because he was a carpenter and I felt that Vera could have aimed higher. But she was happy and couldn't be swayed.

Did Royce make me happy? What kind of question is that? He sent me flowers every day; roses and violets. He told me I was beautiful all the time. He kept telling me how eager he was to be married. He bought me a beautiful engagement ring. He sent me gifts all the time.

"He's right for me Vera."

"Okay."

"I need to leave, Royce and I are attending a party tonight." I stood up and straightened my skirt, wiping away some fluff.

"Well enjoy it and think of me, a poor old pregnant married woman who is thinking of all the fun you're having." Vera smiled, but I knew she wouldn't want to trade places with me, not for any money in the world.

- - -

"Most would say we are monsters," Carlisle narrated. He had said this before, but I hadn't focused on those words, the pain had consumed me then.

"I am a vampire, but I don't hunt humans. It is the blood of animals that sustains me. It keeps me strong enough to resist, to give me a semblance of my humanity back."

The fire had receded from my fingertips, but my heart still beat a frightening rhythm.

"If you want, you can share in my life. Be part of my small family."

There was no question that I had died. Now in this purgatory, I waited to rise again.

- - -

_Royce was first. I was his fiancée after all. He pushed his way through his friends and knelt in front of me. I kicked him, as hard as I could._

"_Bitch." Someone hit me hard. My face was already so sore._

_Royce had unbuckled his trousers and had placed himself between my legs._

_I pleaded and pleaded through my gag, with my eyes, all the while struggling to pull myself free. My legs kicked out again, hitting someone._

"_Stop it, whore." Royce struck me again and again. I couldn't breathe and I felt one of my ribs crack._

- - -

"Ah Rose, you look beautiful as always." Royce always complimented my looks. It made me feel so worthwhile. I kissed him chastely on the cheek and turned to grab my coat. His hand on my arm stopped me. From behind his back came a box from my favourite shop. I couldn't really afford to buy much there, but I loved to look. But once I was married, I would buy a whole new wardrobe from there, I could afford it then. I squealed girlishly and took the box. Inside, under the delicate folds of tissue paper, was a beautiful new coat. It had shiny buttons and was made out of the softest wool.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. His hands started at my waist but started to wander upwards. We were standing in the hallway of my parents' house, I couldn't let them find us like this. I pulled back quickly, smiling shyly and put on my new coat. It wasn't as warm as my old coat, but it was infinitely more beautiful.

The party was at a local club but Royce took me in his car. He loved driving it, showing it off. I loved it too. I had asked Royce to show me how to drive it but he had brushed me off at the time and I hadn't raised the issue again. Instead I watched him like a hawk when he drove, to see if I could learn how it worked. The sound of the engine was loud and rough. I wondered if it were possible to make it stronger so we could go faster. I had asked Royce this when he first got the car, but he laughed at me.

"There are some things that women shouldn't get involved in, Rose. Cars are a man's domain; you just focus on not getting your hair mussed." I had laughed with him and agreed. I knew I would be good at being a wife, taking care of a house and children, but I sometimes I wanted something more. Perhaps Royce would buy me my own car after we were married and then I could drive it around all day.

The party was noisy, crowded and fun. Royce had me on his arm most of the night, presenting me to everyone. I didn't say much, just smiled prettily at his friends. It was what he expected of me.

It was getting late and I asked Royce to drive me home. He never drank much at these parties, I always had more than he did. He said he wasn't fond of champagne. When he pulled up outside my house, he leaned over and pulled me to him. He captured my lips with his and he kissed fiercely. His hands wandered over my body. Despite my bravado, I was scared. My mother hadn't explained much to me, telling me I'd work it all out on my wedding night. It was something Vera never spoke about. So I floundered about, unsure. But I knew that Royce was eager for me and that gave me a little confidence. But as his hands started to force their way under my dress, I pulled back. Although I was eager for him too, I was going to wait. It was the right thing to do.

"Please, Rose. Just let me..." I slapped his hand as I straightened my hair.

"It won't be long now. Just a couple of months." I kissed him quickly on the lips and left his car.

- - -

"It was too much waste. I couldn't leave her."

I wasn't dying. Why was I still here? Why did Carlisle Cullen get to decide when I died? The fire in my veins, the acid in my blood. This was worse than dying.

"Of course you couldn't." Mrs Cullen agreed.

I screamed in pain. I screamed in anger. I screamed my frustration. I screamed.

"People die all the time," Edward said coldly.

I listened to these creatures, focusing on their words distracting me from my pain. I was proud of who I was and scared of what I was to become.

- - -

_My clothing was torn. My ribs were cracked. My face was bruised. One of my arms was broken. But that pain was nothing. He was inside me and hurt. It hurt. It hurt. He was too big and rough. I closed my eyes and tried to float away._

- - -

"I cannot believe you didn't call me!"

I had received a phone call during lunch. Henry had rang to say that Vera had fallen into labour last night and was now recovering in the hospital and that his little boy was perfectly healthy. I was elated for her. I had left the house and caught a bus to the hospital.

I was now sitting on the edge of her bed, watching the tiny miracle in her arms fidget and yawn.

"You were at a party, Rose. I couldn't. Even if I had left a message with your mother, it would have been too late." Vera smiled. She couldn't be angry with me, she was too happy. She looked exhausted and pale and her little boy was red and squished up. My fingers itched at the thought of holding him.

"What are you going to call him?"

"We've decided to name him after his father." Vera paused and looked at me. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Yes." I reached for the baby eagerly. "Hello little Henry," I cooed, "it's wonderful to finally meet you."

"Well, Mrs. Carter, how are you this morning?" I knew that voice. I turned and behind me was Dr. Cullen. He looked elegant in his white coat. I ignored him while he saw to Vera and focused on the little baby in my arms.

"I'm afraid, Miss Hale, that I'm going that have to take a look at little Henry." Carlisle stood at my shoulder. I reluctantly handed him over. I didn't get to hold him again that day. But I visited Vera every day she was in hospital and once she was home I called on her as often as I could. I always made sure that she was alone, not being bothered by relatives, so I could hold the baby.

Each night I would go to bed and picture my house, which would be bigger than Vera's, and my sweet children. I could just see their cherubic blonde curls and little dimples in their cheeks. My Royce would come home from work, kiss me sweetly and laugh at my stories about our children. Granted, Royce didn't care for my stories about little Henry or anything else much, but I knew once we were married that things would change.

- - -

I waited, a burning corpse. I wanted to die, it would end the pain. I wanted to die, it would end my thoughts. Although my body burned, my mind was bright and clear. I could still see their faces, hear their words, feel their bodies.

"Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though?" Edward stated harshly. "The Kings will have to put up a huge search – not that anyone suspects the fiend." He growled. Royce's face flashed through my mind. I saw his hands ripping my clothes, his fists hitting my face. I felt disgusting. I screamed and let the fire burn me through. Perhaps it would cleanse me of this.

- - -

_Another and another. I didn't want to know how many, but I couldn't help counting. Their sweaty faces burned into my brain. I wanted to struggle but I was too weak. I wanted to fight back but I was too weak. I wanted to make them hurt, make them suffer, but I was too weak._

- - -

It was my birthday, but also my engagement party. It was two weeks until the wedding and I was walking on clouds. I had a fitting this morning for my wedding dress and it was perfect. The dress was perfect and I was perfect. Mostly. While peering in the mirror this morning I noticed another freckle on my cheek, near my left eye. I know it wasn't a huge thing, but if I got a new freckle every couple months in a few years I would look like a leopard. After my fitting I dropped into Vera. Her little boy spent most of his time trying to eat his own hands. He had only discovered them last week. His little fists would fly up and suddenly he would see them, as if he'd never seen them before, and then immediately try to put them in his mouth. His dark hair was growing fast and the little dimples in his cheeks just melted my heart.

I wanted my family as soon as possible. Vera and Henry were coming tonight to the party, Vera's neighbour was looking after the baby. A soft knock on my door pulled me out of my reverie.

"Rose?"

"Come in, Vera." I called. She came in quietly and navigated her way around the many vases of roses and violets in my room.

"He sure does shower you in flowers." Vera said.

"Royce says that a pretty girl deserves pretty flowers. And a pretty engagement ring. And a pretty wedding dress." I smiled, sometimes I wondered if I could die from happiness.

"Well, come downstairs birthday girl. Your pretty fiancée is waiting for you."

The party went spectacularly. Everyone wished me a happy birthday and congratulated me on my engagement. To my annoyance, mother had invited the Cullens but I managed to avoid them most of the night. Royce led me into the parlour late in the evening, refusing champagne from the waiter, and introduced me to a friend of his.

"John Mann, this is my Rose." I smiled and fluttered at him.

"Royce, have you spoken with George Hudson recently?"John said as he casually rested himself up against my piano. I didn't know how to tell him to get his hulking mass off my instrument.

"No, he's in Georgia still. I'm going there next week, I'm trying to convince him to come up for the wedding."

"Well, George always knows how to have a good time."

"We all have a good time whenever George has anything to do with it." Royce and John nudged and winked at each other. My eyes wandered over the room, and there were the Cullens speaking with Vera and Henry. Edward smirked at me. I returned with a glare and focused in on what my fiancée was saying. My mother fluttered in.

"Oh Mr. Mann, do be careful. You're leaning on our piano." Thank you mother, I couldn't afford to be rude to Royce's friends but she could.

"I do apologise, Mrs Hale." His manners appeared, and John's apology seemed sincere.

"Come on, Rose," Royce urged, "play something for us."

I acquiesced and walked over to my piano, passing Edward on the way. I smiled at him sweetly as I passed and took a seat. I wasn't the most proficient player in the most, I wasn't that dedicated to practicing daily, but I knew I was good. I played a jazz piece I knew Royce liked. It went down well, everyone clapped and praised my skills. I relished in the compliments.

_Take that, Edward Masen._ I thought triumphantly. _You stand next to that fire and act superior, that seems to be all you're good at._

"Go on, Rose, play another." John urged.

"I'm not the entertainment!" I snapped and left the piano stool. There was a general sense of disappointment at the ending of the music. I snapped out of habit and I couldn't take it back. I wouldn't mind playing again but if there was one thing I hated, it was looking like a fool. So no more music this evening.

"Well, if you're disinclined to play. I know a song or two." Oh no. Edward just offered to take my place and I had to let him.

"Knock yourself out." I offered him my chair, and before he played even a single note I swept out of the room. I could still hear his perfect playing from the next room and it infuriated me. I downed a glass champagne and vowed to have nothing to do with him ever again.

It was one week after my birthday and one week till the wedding. It was the afternoon and I hadn't seen Vera since my party. I put on my beautiful coat, my gift from Royce, rolled my hair under my hat and left the house.

- - -

_I was jealous of Vera. Henry loved her so sweetly. But I would have all of that very soon and more. I couldn't wait. I said my goodbyes to my friend, put on my coat and walked into the night, dreaming of my happily ever after._

- - -

My heart beat faster and faster. I couldn't move, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't scream.

The beating, thumping, pumping sound was so fast. Then it stopped. I opened my eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay... I could write a million excuses but you'd probably prefer the chapter...**

Chapter 4

I saw the ceiling. I didn't just look and know a ceiling was there. I really _saw _it. The fine lines in the paint where the hairs of the painter's brush had carved small tracks were as clear as crystal to me. Dust floated in the air, illuminated by candlelight, in swarms of swirls. In the blink of an eye I went from laying on a bed to crouching on it. My senses were assaulted with millions of sensations. I could hear the fluttering of wings on the night air and the gentle rustle of leaves that accompanied it.

My pain was gone. The fire was gone. I didn't know what I was, what I looked like, but I felt strong. No longer weak and vulnerable, I wanted to hunt down the monsters that had done this to me. My eyes focused on the room. Dr. Cullen and Edward were there, standing in front of Mrs Cullen protectively. Like I was dangerous. The more I thought about it I realised that I did feel dangerous, and strong, and angry.

"What did you do to me?" I demanded. Then I was shocked at the sound of my voice. I had always considered my voice relatively sultry and on occasion a tad whiney but it was all smoothed out, like silk.

"Rosalie," the doctor approached me with his hands out in a mollifying gesture. "Please sit down and I'll explain it to you."

I refused to sit down. I didn't take orders from anybody, especially from someone who had been lying to me. Lying to the whole town. I looked at my hands, stretched out and extended like talons. It was ugly. Relaxing my hands, my posture entirely, they looked better. I was white. I had never been particularly tanned before, just a nice warm honey colour. Now I was whiter than a sheet. As white as a corpse.

"I died, didn't I?"

"No. Not exactly." He replied. Edward and Mrs Cullen just eyed me from across the room.

"But I was dying." It wasn't a question. I knew I had been.

"Yes."

"So you stopped me from dying. You changed me..." A word filtered through the haze of pain I suffered through. "Vampire." As soon as I said it I felt ridiculous but it also felt right. My throat was so dry, I just wanted a drink. "You changed me into a vampire."

"Yes. I couldn't let you die." Dr. Cullen's face changed. His expression was heartfelt. "It was too horrible. Too much of a waste. You're so young."

I swallowed. My throat was burning. "You need to explain it to me. I need to know."

Edward stepped forward. "We will. But you're thirsty." As soon as he said the word, the fire in my throat intensified. I swallowed again.

Visions of vampires filled my mind. Sharp fangs latched onto the neck of a helpless human struggling uselessly. This vision was from a ridiculous movie I had seen but now this implausible and ridiculous scenario was becoming my reality.

"You're not making me kill someone. I don't care." I didn't want to kill an _innocent_ person. Guilty ones, however, were on my list.

Carlisle looked at me warmly. "With that I agree completely."

There was a dead body in my lap and I wept for it. No matter how much I cried, no tears escaped my eyes. Edward and Doctor Cullen kept their distance, watching me weep. They had pulled me out of the house and into the nearby woods with alarming speed. Mrs Cullen had stayed behind. The world was a myriad of sights and sounds. The unfamiliar and delicious scents that wafted on the breeze had tempted me to stay behind but my guardians wouldn't have that, dragging me away while I twisted with rage. In the woods, before I even realized I had done it, my body had coiled and then released, running faster than I had even imagined possible. The deer never had a chance. Now the poor creature was in my lap, drained of blood. Most of the blood had made it down my scorching throat but a portion stained my tattered dress. I had died in that dress, my own blood still stained it, and now I was reborn a monster.

I don't know how long I cried, eventually a hand touched my shoulder gently. I couldn't help it, my reaction was involuntary. I growled fiercely and jumped back as far as I could. Visions of unwanted hands over my body haunted me.

"I'm sorry." Carlisle apologized. "I didn't mean to startle you."

My reaction had scared me. I still had trouble understanding the concept that I wasn't human anymore. For all I knew I now had rotting flesh or scales on my back or even horns. Edward smirked at me.

"What?" I demanded. That boy sure knew how to annoy me.

"Are you still thirsty?" He asked politely.

"I don't want to kill any more." I didn't answer his question but he didn't push me.

"Let's get you home, I'm sure you want to get cleaned up." Carlisle offered.

"Then you'll explain everything." It wasn't a question.

"We promise." Carlisle answered.

The minute we had returned to the house Mrs Cullen ushered me into the bathroom where she had a hot bath ready. I swiftly tore off my dress with my strong hands and tossed it aside, I never wanted to see it again. I saw only the large porcelain bath tub with steaming hot water. Gingerly lifting a foot delicately over the edge I stepped into the tub and sunk into the boiling water. The water was way too hot for a human to handle but I barely noticed it. I took in a large breath and dunked my head under water. Once under the surface, I opened my eyes. I could see through the water with perfect clarity, it was unnerving. Golden strands floated into my line of sight and pulled me out of me reverie. I decided to stop thinking about what had happened and focus on the task at hand. I washed my hair and scrubbed my skin within an inch of its life, desperate to wash away the feeling of disgusting hands over my body. While I was washing I couldn't help but notice my body. It was white, smooth and solid, like marble. My body looked perfect, inhumanly so. Oddly enough, this made me feel better. Even if I was an undead monster, if I was still beautiful at least I would still be worth something. I was curious to see my face, yet at the same time dreading it. What if I had fangs or hideous scales? I reached out for the towel as I stepped out of the bath. I dragged it through my hair before wrapping it around my body. It was then I noticed the small mirror in the room. I hesitated for a moment, almost scared of what I would see, but then my curiosity won out.

I approached the foggy mirror with trepidation. I could see a blurry figure take shape. She was familiar to me. Lifting a white hand I wiped away the layer of condensation and gasped. I was beyond beautiful. The blurry figured that I had recognised was gone, the details of this face of breathtaking. When I was human I had been spectacular but now I was perfect. The freckles were gone, my skin smoothed out and cheekbones were prominent. The only part of me that scared me was the pair of crimson eyes that had stared back at me. But I could reconcile with that, I missed my forget-me-not blue eyes but I had traded them for the perfect being that was in the mirror.

_My father would be so proud to see me..._ I pushed aside that thought before it upset me too much. I heard the light swish of feet and a gentle knock on the door.

"Rosalie, dear, are you done? I've brought you something to wear."

Esme had brought me one of her dresses to wear and I couldn't help but notice the luxurious feel of the expensive fabric on my skin. Everything the Cullens possessed was expensive and beautiful. I dried my hair with the towel once more and then I combed it with my fingers. It was a damp golden mess and it irked me. I didn't want to see the men looking like a drowned rat. But it was unavoidable. Once I was decent I entered the parlour and took the seat closest to the fire. Doctor Cullen was seated next to his wife and Edward was leaning nonchalantly on a wall.

"Explain." I ordered.

I was a vampire and immortal.

Carlisle, Esme and Edward were vampires.

Carlisle was very old.

They were vegetarians, or the vampire equivalent of that concept.

The thought of killing humans was abhorrent to them yet animal blood never truly satisfied the thirst.

I would never sleep again.

Carlisle had 'saved' me from death.

Now I had a choice to make. Did I want to stay with them or go my own way. My mind was reeling. I didn't want to be alone. I was thirsty again. I just wanted my old life back. I wanted to hurt Royce, to kill him. All those men who hurt me needed to die. But that was a short term plan, what would I do for the rest of eternity? My throat burned.

"You're thirsty again." Edward stated.

I ignored him. Surely this was a crazy dream brought on by the stress of the wedding?

"It's not a dream." He stated again.

It was almost like he could...

"Edward can hear your thoughts." Carlisle said.

"What?"

"I can read your mind, Rosalie. I hear every thought clear as a bell." He said with a sigh.

"Stop it." I demanded.

"I can't" He stared at me, his golden eyes seeing right through me. I felt naked and I didn't like it.

"You're just not trying."

"I assure you I am." He replied.

"Get out of my head, Edward." I glared at him with everything I had.

"I would if I could." He glared right back.

"Now, children," Esme started. "Calm down. Rosalie, he can't help his gift. I understand you're feeling a little overwhelmed. You don't need to make a decision right away. I'll take you to the guest room and we can have a chat." She took my arm and started to lead me from the room. I refused to look at Edward, but decided to think a phrase I had never dared to say out loud before. I was completely satisfied when I heard him take in a breath in shock.

**Thanks for hanging in there... more is planned. Rosalie will get her revenge.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Good things come to those... etc etc etc.**

Chapter 5

We sat in silence for nearly an hour. Mrs Cullen, or Esme as she preferred, had guided me to the guest room and once inside we took our positions in the chairs in front of the fire. My new crimson eyes stared into the flames while my mind wandered at a lightning pace. I thought a thousand thoughts, each idea adding to my confusion. The stillness was completely natural now. When I had been alive I had fidgeted as if I had had ants in my pants. Well that's what my mother always said. Now I was dead, and I truly believed that I was dead, I could sit unnaturally still like a corpse. Esme had passed the time with some small piece of hand sewing. Knowing now a little bit about the skills we monsters possessed, I asked her the first thing that came to mind.

"Why are you doing that?"

Esme smiled. "Of all the things that I thought you would ask me, it wasn't that."

"Well, aren't you going to answer the question?" I was feeling sensitive and my temper flared. Considering what had happened to me in the last three days, I felt I could be forgiven for any social faux pas.

"Because I find it comforting." She responded gently.

"But you could do it so much quicker than that." I objected.

"But that's not the point. This slow rhythm is comforting. Reminds me of my mother."

"Oh." It reminded me of my mother too. Grief poured through me. I missed my mother. I missed my life. I hated what I was. I had a list in my head of the people who would pay for it. I looked to the window. Although I knew we were two storeys from the street, I had felt the coiled strength in my muscles as I ran. I slowly stood and wandered to the mantle above the fireplace, pretending to inspect the photograph of the family. Just as I tensed to run out of the room Edward knocked on the door. I knew it was him because I could smell him.

Esme looked to me. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine. Come in."

Edward swiftly entered the room. "Esme, do you mind if I speak to Rosalie for a moment?"

"Of course." She gracefully stood up and left the room. Edward leant on the wall with his arms folded.

"What?" I asked grumpily.

"Don't do it."

Of course he knew my plan. _Stupid mindreading idiot!_

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm entitled to vengeance."

He sighed. "You are. But not yet."

"What do you mean? I'm ready, I'm strong and I'm angry. Of course I'm ready."

Edward shifted off the wall and walked towards me. I backed off immediately.

"You're not. Not for the kind of vengeance you were planning five minutes ago. You are less than a day old. The minute you smell a human, you're going to go crazy with bloodlust and you'll drink them dry. No matter who it is."

I opened my mouth to object but Edward interrupted me. "You saw how it was in the forest. You didn't even think. Your instincts kicked in and that deer was dead in seconds. The scent of a deer isn't even that appetising compared to a human."

_Stupid, arrogant, annoying vampire_, I thought.

"I'm right though. Unless you just plan on drinking their blood..."

"I don't want any part of them inside me." I said. My voice nearly quivered. A flash of that night blazed into my memory

"_Royce, please," I begged. He lumbered towards me, his face an inch from mine._

"_Beg, Rose. Go on, beg." The stench of alcohol, cheap beer, wafted over me and I gagged on it._

I shuddered, my arms wrapped around myself protectively.

"I'm sorry." Edward said and he moved towards me.

I reacted instinctively. I crouched into an aggressive pose and growled at him. He backed away with his hands in the air. Standing quickly, I returned to the fireplace. Without looking at him, I thought, _so what do you suggest, Mr Know-it-all?_

"Wait. Stay with us. We'll teach you to control yourself around humans. In a couple of months you'll be able to do what you want to those humans. Give them what they deserve. I promise."

Although everything in me wanted to disagree with him, the annoying twat was right.

_Fine, I'll stay._

Time passed and my rage continued to build. I would stomp around the house in a huff. Although the Cullens had the best intentions, I viewed them as my captors. I was a prisoner, imprisoned for existing. I knew I was being melodramatic and childish, but that's all I could do when I wasn't panting for blood or planning the murder of five humans. Although I should have been a better guest and paid more attention to my hosts, perhaps asked them about their pasts, how old they really were, I was to absorbed in my own misery to care.

The Cullens had a television, but the novelty of this new technology soon wore off. Esme bought me some beautiful new outfits, but I couldn't go out and show them off. I had no one to tell me I was beautiful, no one to admire me. Admiration had been like oxygen to me before I died. Now, apart from this insane need to drink from any living breathing thing, I was wilting without it. And the worst part was that I was now ten times more perfect than when I'd been human. The Cullens looked at me with compassion and pity. Edward just avoided me.

Everything about him irritated me. His aloof, arrogant attitude just got under my marble skin. I was bored and frustrated with my slow progress. When my thirst for blood wasn't dominating my thoughts, I wallowed in misery. I had read every book in Esme and Edward's library and was bored enough to consider dipping into Carlisle's medical texts.

One night when Edward was out roaming the town, rubbing his freedom in my face, I wandered through the house aimlessly. Carlisle and Esme were having 'private time' in their room and I was desperate not to hear it.

"Damn my super hearing." I muttered under my breath. I walked to the other end of the house, a place did not normally frequent. I stood in front of the door to the garage. It was a plain wooden door, stained to a rich, dark color. But it was more than a door. It was a social barrier. My father couldn't afford a motor car. Royce (curse that evil man _who was still breathing_) wouldn't let me touch his precious machine. It was unseemly, apparently.

Edward had a car. I had seen it. And Edward wasn't home. Without realising I'd done it, I was inside the garage and standing in front of the beautiful machine. It was sleek and black. The fabric roof was folded back and luxurious leather seats beckoned to me. I slowly circled it, committing every detail to memory; the highly polished caps on the wheels, the shiny black and white tires and the perfectly circular lights. I realized I didn't know the proper names for most of the bits of the car. Headlights or lamps? Was it the window at the front or did it have another name? I was going to find out. But first I wanted to drive it.

Gently, I opened the door to the drivers' seat. I felt so rebellious, it was ridiculous. Sitting behind the steering wheel, I felt so strong, in control and completely lost. There were at least seven dials on the dashboard; Regulation, Gasoline, Temperature and so on, and in the middle of the steering wheel there were knobs labelled 'throttle' and 'lights'. I let my fingers trace over them all, trying to absorb the knowledge through my cold, hard skin. For the first time since my 'rebirth', neither blood nor vengeance was at the forefront of my mind. The most important thing to me, right now, was to drive this car. I imagined driving down the long empty roads, free as a bird. Being in charge of the machine, telling it what to do, where to go. Sure, I knew I could run faster but this was different. I grinned at the thought. It was a smile of pure joy. I couldn't remember the last time I had smiled like that.

"That's my car."

I was so absorbed in my reverie, I didn't hear him come in. My hands curled around the steering wheel.

"Well, I'm part of the family so you have to share." I jibed back instinctively, but I was worried. My thoughts had been so unguarded. I couldn't bear the thought of Edward mocking me for wanting this. I tried to think of something else, but I couldn't. A strange look crossed his face, it wasn't his usual patronising smile but neither was it his arrogant eye roll.

"Do you want me to teach you how to drive?"

The next week was an interesting one. Edward was still as irritating, arrogant and smug as ever, but he had something I wanted: knowledge. I don't know what made him offer me the driving lessons, and I'm sure he regretted it within seconds. But he had committed himself to spending every second with me until I knew how to drive. There was no way I was going to let him go until I could do so. I was still stronger than him, even though it had been five months since my heart had beat, and so had the power to hold him down with one hand and drive with the other if it came to that.

"Focus!" Edward shouted.

"I'm doing fine." I replied calmly. We were slowly jerking down the road while I tried to master the art of changing gears. It was around three o'clock in the morning and we were in the middle of nowhere.

"You might be doing fine, but you're damaging my gear box." said Edward, the strain apparent in his voice. I didn't believe it was possible for our skin to get any whiter, but Edward's knuckles were almost see through as he clenched his fists in his lap.

_Over protective mother hen_, I thought as I rolled my eyes.

Edward sighed, "You just don't understand, Rose. It's taken me ages to work out how to modify the car so it could go faster. I don't want you ruining my hard work."

"So it is possible." I muttered. Memories fluttered around in my mind. I saw Royce and I sitting in his car, rough engine chugging away. I had asked Royce to show me how it worked, _"There are some things that women shouldn't get involved in, Rose. Cars are a man's domain; you just focus on not getting your hair mussed."_

I shook my head to clear it and focused on the road. A golden lock of hair fell into my eyes, but I didn't care. I was driving.

**I hope I get brownie points for trying, I'm in unchartered territory here, Stephenie Meyer (who owns these characters) never really visited this part, so I'm on my own.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm trying to get back into regular writing. Trying so hard...**

**Chapter 6**

When I wasn't driving Edward's car, my head was either buried in its' engine with Edward showing me the different parts or buried in a book about motor engines. Normally I relished in my pristine appearance, but here I found the oldest clothes I could and spent my days covered in grease and I loved it.

I could now go three days without the desperate bloodlust descending upon me but my eyes were still blood red. I checked my reflection in any reflective surface, partly to see if my eyes had changed, but mainly because my change still amazed me.

At the end of a long week I knew as much about the car as Edward and could drive it quite competently, but he would let me drive to far away from home. It was exactly one week since Edward had made his offer of driving lessons and I was coasting along in his car effortlessly. The roof was folded back and wind whipped my hair into a wild mess. I was ecstatic.

_I think I can make it go faster._

"How?" Edward asked curiously.

"Let me have your car, your tools and the garage for the day and I'll show you tomorrow night." I answered confidently. He was intrigued, I could tell. "Trust me." I urged.

"Alright. But bear in mind that this car is everything to me." He warned.

"Don't be such a baby. I'll take good care of her." I assured him.

I smiled to myself, envisioning my victory drive tomorrow night.

It happened so quickly. Edward suddenly reached across me, taking the wheel. At the same time, the scent reached my nose. Human. Fresh. Nearby. Edward turned the wheel and tried to get us going in the opposite direction but I was out of the car within seconds. Crouching in the dirt by the side of the road I inhaled the sweet scent to get a bearing of where it was coming from. I coiled my muscles, preparing to run, when Edward's arms suddenly wrapped around me. Memories crowded in on me; Royce's friends holding me still, my struggles useless.

"Stop breathing, Rose." Edward said into my ear. "Focus on here and now. You don't want to hurt that human. Control yourself."

I struggled against Edward, but my mind cleared the red haze, lifting it from my vision. I wasn't going to hurt that person. My plans of vengeance focused me. I would conquer this blood lust and get my revenge.

Eventually I stilled, becoming like the marble statue I resembled. The scent of the human was still lingering in the air, but it didn't drive me wild.

_I think I'm ok now._

Edward's arms slowly released me. Visions of unwanted arms holding me still haunted me, though I would never admit it, and Edward knew it. He also knew I didn't want his pity. Pity was insufferable to me.

"You're getting better. You have more control." He complimented.

"Well it has been five months." I replied tartly. But this thought stayed with me all the way home.

Harry Weston. Jonathon Carter. John Mann. George Hudson. Royce King Junior. Those five names echoed through my mind endlessly while I tinkered on the car's engine all day. Grease was smeared on my cheeks and on my fingertips and I knew this alteration was going to work. Normally being proven right would have been enough for me but now, knowing my control over the bloodlust was stronger than I had anticipated, the thoughts of vengeance reared its ugly head.

Edward kept his distance during the day. I could hear him playing his piano, while Esme fluttered about the house. We would be leaving Rochester soon and she was deciding what she would bring with her and what would stay behind. I had told them all I wasn't leaving yet. They all knew why, yet never spoke of it. Carlisle turned a blind eye, focussing on his work and his wife.

It was after midnight and Edward hadn't come to the garage as usual. I stalked out of the garage and stood in the hallway. He was in his room.

"Edward, get down here." I demanded.

"No."

"Get down here." I couldn't believe that he contradicted me.

"I said no, Rose. Not tonight. I'm busy." He answered, clearly annoyed.

My hands balled into fists. I stomped at a slow human pace up two flights of stairs and down the hall to his room. Esme and Carlisle had stopped their conversation to listen to ours. I knocked on his door loudly so it rattled on its' hinges. It was entirely pointless, as he knew I was there, yet extremely satisfying.

"Busy?" I enquired sweetly. "Doing what? Memorising the indents on your ceiling? Organizing your books by color?"

Edward sighed. I swear I could hear him rolling his eyes. He opened his door quickly and looked me in the eyes.

"I just think we need a night off from driving."

"Why? It's because you know my modification will work and you don't want to be shown up by a woman. Isn't it." I finished up by poking him the in chest.

"No. I just think last night was a close call. We don't know if there are humans out there, we've been incredibly lucky this week that we've only encountered the one." Edward was trying to be logical and sensible.

"But I _need_ to go out." I whined. _How will I ever control myself if I'm always hidden away?_

"I understand that, Rose."

_Plus the sooner I control myself, the sooner we can leave here. _"That's what you want, isn't it." I poked him in the chest one more time for good measure.

"Fine." He sighed. A gleeful smile spread over my face. I'd won. But then I always won.

Edward was smiling. I don't think I'd ever seen him do that before. We were flying down the road, faster than we'd ever gone before, zooming down the dusty roads with the newly modified engine working perfectly. This was the proudest I'd ever felt, ever. Sure, looking pretty for my parents had made them proud but here was something I'd done by myself, with my own hands.

"This is fantastic, Rose. Well down." Edward smiled.

"Well, well, well. You're smiling and you complimented me all in one breath. There may be hope for you yet." I smiled cheekily at him. Although I had absolutely no interest in him whatsoever (he was far too annoying and arrogant), I still could not believe that he was entirely immune to me. He was a man, after all.

"I wouldn't bet on it." He muttered. "You're far too annoying."

I slammed on the breaks, and he just managed to keep himself in the car. I simply raised an eyebrow at him, and then restarted the car.

"Definitely annoying. And high maintenance." I heard him mutter under his breath, but I chose to ignore it.

The next day was grey and miserable. Edward had taken Esme down to town for some shopping in his newly modified car. Carlisle was babysitting me while I drifted around the house.

Harry Weston. Jonathon Carter. John Mann. George Hudson. Royce King Junior.

Step one was to find out where they were. Hudson was from Georgia, but the rest were all Royce's friends and lived here. I would be able to track them easily, once I caught their scent. But that was the issue. I wasn't ready to track humans yet, they all smelled so delicious I couldn't focus. I also knew that I couldn't make their deaths as lingering as I wanted. It would have to be quick. A knock on the front door disturbed my reverie.

Human. I could smell him. Carlisle was next to me in a flash.

"I'll be fine." I whispered with the last of the air in my lungs, then I ran upstairs.

Carlisle answered the door. Apparently a patient of his. I ignored their conversation but I sat on the landing, as close as I could get without being seen, and forced the bloodlust out of my mind. I didn't breath, but neither did I tear out his throat. His scent burned my throat like a fire poker, but I refused to move. If Esme was loving, Carlisle was compassionate and Edward arrogant, I was stubborn. With my tenacity I was determined to control the monster within in.

Carlisle found me on the stairs. He looked surprised.

"You were this close? I thought you'd gone to your room"

"I'm going to control this." I replied.

"Well, I'm impressed." He looked proud of me. I wasn't used to that kind of paternal attention.

"Actually," he continued with a cheeky glint to his eye, "you're doing much better than Edward did."

"Really?" That'll wipe the smug look off his face.

"But try not to tell him that." Carlisle said. He clapped a hand to my shoulder as he walked past back to his office. It was the first time anyone had touched me and I hadn't flinched.

Later that day, when Esme and Edward returned, Carlisle proudly told them of how well I'd controlled myself that day. I smiled smugly at Edward. Esme clapped her hands.

"Oh, well done dear. I'm very proud." She came over and planted a kiss on my head. She did it so quickly, I hadn't had time to move away. For the second time that day I felt strange. The second show of parental approval and affection and I liked it. But I would rather die than admit it.

Suddenly it was Edward grinning smugly at me.

"Oh, I nearly forgot." Esme continued. "I bought you this lovely dress, Rose. I hope you like it." The dress was beautiful, and I told her so. Esme was pleased and the cosy little family scene continued. Carlisle watched us rifle through the shopping together and a wistful smile graced his lips. While I tried on a new hat that Esme had bought, Edward suddenly looked at Carlisle angrily.

"You have got to be kidding me." He suddenly said in a low voice.

Carlisle just looked sheepish.

"You have no right to interfere. You... I can't..." Lost for words Edward stomped upstairs.

"What was all that about?" Esme asked her husband.

"I just let my mind wander. I know he can't help it, but sometimes some thoughts should stay private." He replied.

"Hmm." Esme replied. I just rolled my eyes and continued to pull compliments out of my foster mother while trying on all the new clothes.

Later I knocked on his door.

"What?" Edward barked.

_Someone's in a bad mood_. I thought. _Usually the temper tantrums are my thing. What was that all about earlier?_

"It's nothing."

I opened his door and walked in. Edward was sitting in the window seat, reading a book.

_Hardly nothing_.

"Just Carlisle interfering in my life where he wasn't wanted." He replied.

_What? Did he think he should start giving you a smaller allowance?_

"No. Now leave me alone."

"No. It's time to go out driving." I retorted.

"I really don't think you need any more lessons." Edward focussed back onto his book.

"Well, I'll just go out myself then." I said.

"You know you can't." He sighed.

"I controlled myself today." I argued. "Plus, of all the times we've been out, we've only come across one human."

"It's still too risky. Just leave it alone for one night." Edward pleaded. This wasn't fair. He could leave whenever he wanted but I was stuck here.

"Fine!" I shouted. "I'm just a prisoner here!" My voice rose dramatically as I threw myself into the tantrum. "I'm at your beck and call. When things don't suit _you_, I have to suffer." I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room, breaking his door as I did. I stomped across the landing to my room, slammed the door noisily and threw myself to the floor. I didn't even have a bed to cry on. Also, I couldn't cry. "I hate my life!" I screamed. Then I curled into a ball and closed my eyes to the world.

I don't know how much time passed. But it was a gentle touch to my head that returned me to the world. It was Esme, of course. She wanted to soothe the rift in her family.

"Rosalie, my dear, I know you're finding things hard."

"I hate it. I hate that I'm dead. I hate that I'm a monster. I hate that I'm stuck here like a prisoner." I wailed.

"I know." She said soothingly.

"I _hate_ that the people who put me here are still breathing. They could be doing this to other girls."

"Shh."

"I hate killing animals. I hate wanting to kill humans. I hate being stuck like this. Forever." I moaned into my arms. Esme continued to stroke my hair.

"All I wanted was a nice husband and pretty babies. Now I'll never have babies. Vera had her boy. I was going to have pretty babies, prettier than hers. And a nice house. And a car." My head was buried in Esme's shoulder, her marble arms held me together while all my dreams slowly left me.

"I had a baby." Esme whispered.

She had never told me that. But then I had been so focussed on my woes I never bothered to pay attention to my captors. My shaking shoulders stilled and I looked at her with new eyes.

"And a husband. And a house." She continued. A haunted look crossed her marble features.

"Would you like to hear my story, Rosalie?"

**Sorry if it seems drawn out. I felt this was important character development. Promise action next chapters. Those bastard rapists' breaths are numbered.**


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